Variables
by BatmansLady1369
Summary: updated. the rating will go up later. really just setting the premise right now. Bats is solving a case, WW eventually helps. will be BMWW luvvy-ness!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Ah, if only I owned the bat-clan or the justice league. Sigh. Oh well, don't sue me, all I have is some pocket lint and some drawings. Summary: Yes, so this story is about love. Lots of it.........m-hm. Well, there may be some higher-rating shiznit in later chapters, but for the beginning, we'll keep it relatively clean – meaning not at all! lol, j/k. Ok, enough of my babbling, on with the ficaroo.  
  
It was a Saturday morning. The sun was shining and I'd had a productive evening. This alone entitled me to a bad mood. I rolled to sit up in my bed with a groan as a sharp pain raced up my side. Ah, yes, the broken ribs. Always a pleasant occupational bonus. I stood up and made my way to the bathroom with a towel in hand, kicking off my pajama pants on my way down the hall. As I shut the door to behind me, I squirmed out of my boxers as best as I could (which was not very graceful, considering my various injuries) and turned on the water.  
Waiting for the spray from the shower head to heat up, I turned my attention to the large mirror on the wall facing the shower stall. I looked like shit. Between the swollen, bruised flesh over my cheekbone, the bandaged ribs with some blood seeping through, and the huge gashes on my left arm and right shoulder, I was a walking mass of pain. Not that I hadn't experienced worse, but it would be difficult to explain to my colleagues at the board meeting in two hours. I then looked up and saw that my image was being hidden with steam, so I removed the bandage from my chest, and stepped into the water.  
20 minutes later I exited the bathroom cleansed, newly patched up, clean-shaven, and minty-breathed. I went back to my room and picked out a generic suit, just like the one I'd worn the day before, and the day before that. My outfit consisted of black slacks and a black jacket, over a crisp white button down shirt (with a tank and a t-shirt underneath, just in case I bled through my bandaging again) and a red tie. Put it all together with shiny Italian dress shoes and slicked back hair and I was ready to go.  
  
Ten minutes into the board meeting and I was aching for it to end. My alter ego is known for his impatience and flaky personality, so I had some leeway, but even I can't keep up the act forever. I let out what I thought was probably my fifteenth yawn and shifted in my seat yet again, feeling the tingle of sleep pulse over my right foot like hot needles in a blizzard. I shook my foot, nonchalantly trying to get the blood flowing again, achieving nothing more than tiring my leg and kicking another executive. Luckily, he was too busy drooling on his briefcase to notice.  
The meeting ended and I headed to my office three floors up, deciding to take the elevator that day. There was no one else in it, since I had my own private elevator, and I could see clearly outside. The elevator and the entire shaft were made from tempered glass, and were located on the side of the building, so it gave a clear view of the city. Convenient for wowing new girlfriends or catching the signal early and being able to make a quick escape. There were no cameras in there and there was a code- activated escape hatch on both the top and bottom.  
Once I got up there, I began my real work. The hit man, Executioner (how original), had escaped last week and was still at large. There were 3 victims already and I still hadn't tracked him down, and that pissed me off. I'm generally not the type of person to be easily aggravated, but when it comes to my night work, sometimes I even surprise myself at how quickly I lose my temper.  
The victims were Kennedy Rollins, Carter Dawson, and Clinton Merill. They were all in their early twenties, and had been kidnapped about a week before. The body of Clinton, the youngest, turned up the previous night. He was in the morgue and I was planning on going in to investigate that night. The elevator's elegant chime signaling my ascent to the floor my office is on brought me out of my thoughts, and I proceeded down the hallway.  
Two hours of typing and research later, my secretary, Angela, walked in holding a stack of papers. This is the part of having a secret identity I hate the most – playing the part. I minimized the window I was documenting the case information in and leaned back in my chair, pretending to be asleep. She set the papers quietly on the edge of my desk, and as she left the room, I heard a murmured "Lazy ass," under her breath. Sometimes, I really, really hate myself. But then, like now, there was no time for wallowing in self-pity – I had a case to solve. And so, sighing, I turned back to my desk, and pulled the window back up. 


	2. one step closer

A/N: Sorry this took SO long – things have been busy hither, and I've been concentrating on Tension a little too much...b/c of time and stuff you guys aren't really here to read, I'm cutting out most of the actual "bad guy" plotline and just giving you the good stuff (plus I don't really remember how I was gonna pull off the new bad guy anyway...) Disclaimer: I don't own Justice League or Batman, blah, blah, blah.  
  
Diana had been on monitor duty all night, and she was barely conscious by the time she was relieved at six thirty two that morning. She stumbled uncharacteristically clumsily back to her room, flopping onto her bed with a heavy sigh she had willed herself to hold for hours. She didn't even bother taking her uniform off.  
  
After two and a half hours of lying exhausted on her small bed, on top of the sweaty sheets that were rumpled from her constant tossing and turning, Diana gave up on falling asleep there and migrated, with some difficulty, to the couch in front of the TV which Flash had insisted upon installing. She thanked Hera that no one was around to see her in her pitiful state, circles under her beautiful blue eyes, silky, soft ebony hair mussed and matted to her forehead slightly, slouching a bit and dragging her feet with every step. She was a mess.  
  
Just as she was falling asleep after three cups of herbal tea, and watching half of Fight Club, a cold tingle ran down her spine and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Before she could move, a voice came out of a convenient, but oddly out of place shadow:  
  
"Tired?"  
  
Had she been physically capable of such a feat, Diana would have jumped five feet in the air at the voice. Of course she was annoyed to no end that Batman was in the tower all this time and she had been completely unaware of the fact. Not that she was all that upset that he was there in general...  
  
"A bit," she responded in a slurred grumble – or as much of one as she could get, seeing as how her words always seemed to be carefully put forth with perfect diction in her soft, deep voice. Being an ambassador can do that to you.  
  
Batman offered a faint smirk, and as she dozed off , she felt the warmth of some kind of cloth covering her...  
  
Diana awoke several hours later, to the sound of John and Shayera arguing over...something. As she regained full awareness, she was met with the realization that the thing she was covered with was Batman's cape, and that he was asleep in the chair across from her.  
  
She'd heard on the news, and seen on some of the security posts while on monitor duty, that he had spent the last few weeks tracking down a new arsonist, and as of three that morning, had apprehended a man that had murdered several people within the last month. She meant to ask him about it when she saw him, but was so tired she didn't get around to it.  
  
It was...interesting to see him asleep – so unguarded. He looked more human and more vulnerable than she had ever seen him in that moment, and she almost wanted to sit with him, to put her arms around him and protect him. Of course her better judgment was against that.  
  
She was well aware of her own fascination with Batman from when she first entered Man's World – his grace, his intelligence, his dedication, his endurance, his warrior spirit, and his mysterious, dark beauty.  
  
She often found herself entranced when she would see him training, and felt almost humbled by his methodical, yet seemingly second nature skill. Before she knew it, her admiration had grown into something...deeper. Most people would probably identify it as love, but since she had never experienced such, she couldn't be sure. There was also a side of lust that she was a bit resentful of – not that she denied it. In fact, she wished to act on the feelings, had she thought Batman would accept her affections.  
  
Diana believed that he may have returned her feelings, but the problem was if he would be willing to show it. Despite her wanting to emotionally defend herself, she couldn't help getting her hopes up after the small display of care he showed that day – she only hoped it would persist so that she could be sure she could make her move...  
  
So um....meh, it's ok. Lemmie know what you think – I'm totally willing to change stuff or make the next chapter based on requests and stuff. I'm just having some nasty writer's block. Thanks for reading... 


End file.
